It’s happening again, the closet fairies are on strike. Where are the little buggers when you need them? Shelves are bursting, hangers are askew and there isn’t one square inch of room for my new purchases. This is a woman’s nightmare.

I needed to take action and quickly. My fingers whisked furiously over the keyboard “googling”, in search of the perfect solution.

Suddenly, there is was in all its glory, the “Super Goliath Modular Storage Unit”. A clothing management system for the discerning individual, complete with its own personalized remote. This was a dream come true-I had to have it.

I paced for two days as I anxiously awaited its arrival. The UPS man appeared at my door with six huge boxes. He was staring at me like I should join shop-aholics anonymous…the next thing I knew, he was handing me a pamphlet. I didn’t care; I was on a mission with only three days until my husband returned from a business trip.

After manhandling all the boxes into the bedroom, there wasn’t room for me. I frantically uncrated the components only to discover this would definitely be at least a two day job. The drawings on the box made it appear so simple. Inside the carton was a 200 page bound manual written in a language unknown to mankind. Clearly this wasn’t designed for the novice. As for additional tools required, I flew to Sears and purchased my own Craftsman 300 piece tool set. By the time I finished this project, the screw gun and I would be on a first name basis.

I worked through the night and awoke to find myself curled up in one of the boxes with the directions draped over me. A quick protein fix and I would install the “body flattering mirror”, guaranteed to make any woman look ten pounds lighter. It flickers green when you look stunning and flashes red if you are a fashion accident waiting to happen. Maybe now I can finally develop a sense of style.

The color coded accessories and the potpourri scented drawers were a wonderful accent. The voice activation unit, motion detector and the shoe carousels added the final touch. My masterpiece was finally complete.

I now had three organized sections for my clothes. The “fat” section is for those “post baby” and “after the holidays” clothes. In the “normal” labeled section the clothes that fit as of today found a new home. As for the “Dream Come True” compartment, I placed all of those items I promise I will fit into someday. You never know, they could come back into style. There is even a convenient “donation box” in the corner for items you are considering giving away, but can’t seem to part with.

I grabbed the remote and pressed the button shaped like a high heel pump and my shoes paraded in front of me to the music of the “Nutcracker”. Imelda Marcos, eat your heart out. My husband will suffer from “remote envy” when he sees this baby.
I purposely dropped a pair of my husband’s underwear on the floor. A siren deployed and a voice boomed,

“Pick that up. You know where the hamper is.” It was irritated voice of Roseanne Barr.

No more stooping to pick up dirty jockey shorts. What more could I ask for.

I quickly put them back in his drawer, forgetting to close it all the way.

“Drawer ajar, you idiot,” Roseanne’s voice repeated until I complied.

“Gosh, I hope you didn’t break a nail,” she said cheekily.

I quickly tossed the last of his tee shirts onto his sweater shelf, when it happened again,

“Excuse me…that doesn’t go there. I didn’t fold that neatly so that you could leave it in a crumpled mess.”

I was about ready to tell Roseanne to piss off. This was getting creepy. She was repeating all of the phrases I say over and over again. I quickly changed my clothes and the mirror started flashing red.

“You are not going out in public looking like that are you?” said the snobby cackling voice of Simon Cowell.

I looked in the mirror and realized I looked like crap. This time I slipped into something more desirable. I held my breath waiting for the next snide comment, when I heard,

“You look simple marvelous…” this time the voice was Antonio Banderas playing one of his romantic roles.

Ooh…I think I’m really going to like this.